


A great partnership: Jango & Obi-Wan ficlets

by little_dumpling



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alliances, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Animals, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Bargaining, Bounty Hunter Jango Fett, Cat AU, Deity Obi-Wan Kenobi, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Human Sacrifice, Hurt/Comfort, I just tried to tag origami instead of Obi-Wan Kenobi, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Intersex, Legends Mentioned, M/M, Mand'alor Jango Fett, Mental Health Issues, Mutually Unrequited, No Romance, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi is Not a Jedi, Origami, Partnership, Post-Order 66 (Star Wars), Prostitution, Relationship(s), Role Reversal, Romance, Sacrifice, Sarcasm, Shorts, Single Parent Jango Fett, Slave Obi-Wan Kenobi, Soulmates, Suicidal Thoughts, Sweet, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Truth or Dare, University Student Jango Fett, University Student Obi-Wan Kenobi, cat Jango Fett, so that's in now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:08:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27623852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_dumpling/pseuds/little_dumpling
Summary: Jango Fett and Obi-Wan Kenobi: Frienimies, Lovers, Allies, Sworn Enemies, Friends, Passing Strangers, Husbands, etc.Each short fic (ficlet) deals with a different situation or prompt about Jango and Obi-Wan, such as Arranged Marriage AUs, Role Reversal, Enemies to Lovers, etc.Each ficlet will be tagged with a rating, warnings and short description in chapter 1.
Relationships: Jango Fett & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 96
Kudos: 328





	1. Index

**Author's Note:**

> Some of these will be stories I have come up with myself, some will be stories from prompts by you dear reader. If you wish to prompt me, please leave me an ask on [my tumblr](https://littledumplingwrites.tumblr.com/), through this link [HERE](https://littledumplingwrites.tumblr.com/ask). Feel free to prompt using your name or promt anon (you don't have to have an account there to prompt anon). If you leave your name I will credit you with the prompt in the chapter notes.

* * *

  1. Index
  2. [I'm longing for this love affair to start](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27623852/chapters/67584794)  
An Arranged Marriage AU. Jango/Obi. Rated M, for discussions of sex. Warnings: none.  
_features: Mand'alore!Jango, Stewjoni!Obi, intersex!Jango_
  3. [All the gifts you have given me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27623852/chapters/67703393)  
A cat AU. Jango & Obi. Rated G. Warnings: none.  
_features: cat!Jango, sad!Obi, post Order 66_
  4. [The patience and the peace](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27623852/chapters/67775348)  
Continuation of the Arranged Marriage AU. Jango/Obi. Rated M, for thoughts about sex. Warnings: none.  
_features: Mand'alore!Jango, Stewjoni!Obi, intersex!Jango, implied bottom!Jango_
  5. [I know your best was still your worst](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27623852/chapters/67995967)  
Soulmate AU, Enemies to friends. Jango/Obi. Rated T. Warnings: implied character death.  
_features: cannon AU, Clone Wars, Jango lives after Genosis, Rako Hardeen Arc._
  6. [I can't kick your habit](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27623852/chapters/69838494)  
Reluctant allies AU, strangers to allies. Jango&Obi. Rated M, for adult topics, mental health issues and hinted past non-con. Warnings: past non-con (implied), non-consensual drug use, slavery, sexual slavery, discussed prostitution, mentioned suicidal idealization.  
_features: Bounty hunter!Jango, slave!Obi, prostitute!Obi-Wan, not-a-Jedi!Obi-Wan_
  7. [Who has been fooling who?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27623852/chapters/70276554)  
Modern AU, University/College AU, first kiss. Jango/Obi-Wan. Rated T. Warnings: Jango's potty mouth/profanity, mentioning of an OC dying from alcohol poisoning, consensual kissing.  
_features: Master's student!Jango, RA!Jango, Undergrad student!Obi-Wan, Fresher!Obi-Wan, Truth or Dare, First kiss._
  8. [I've never prayed but tonight I'm on my knees](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27623852/chapters/73562787)  
Mandalorian deity AU. Fix-it, sacrifice, deity!Obi-Wan, Mand'alor!Jango. pre-Jango/Obi-Wan. Rated T. Warnings: Implied character death, mentioned religious elements.  
_features: deity!Obi-Wan, Mand'alor!Jango, a bargain._



* * *

  



	2. I'm longing for this love affair to start (Arranged Marriage AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arranged marriage AU, Ficlet, Jango/Obi-Wan, **Rated M.**
> 
> Mand'alor!Jango, Stewjoni!Obi-Wan, intersex!Jango
> 
>  ***Note! This story is now a full-length fic!** Go check it out [over here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27776686/) It's called _"All at once there was no place that I would rather be"_. Any future edits or additions to the AU will be put up in ["All at once there was no place that I would rather be"](<a%20href=), so instead of reading it here, go there first!

#### I'm longing for this love affair to start

* * *

He was beautiful.

Dressed in a fine, dark coat that was soft to the touch, and a patterned skirt in red that was cut across with intersecting lines of green and white. The black shoes he wore were so shiny, Jango could see his reflection in them as the young man, standing before him, shifted in discomfort from side to side.

 _A companion fit for a ruler,_ Jango thought bitterly to himself, _as if that was all one could hope to do in their lives. The kid can't be much older than 19 or 20 and still has that bright eyed look of someone who hasn't seen what a dark place the galaxy can truly be._

They'd only known each other for all of 20 minutes, yet his future husband looked upon him with both awe and a healthy dose of fear.

"Out with it," Jango lost his patience, unimpressed with the blatant fear. They'd only been standing close enough to each other for Jango to see it, for a couple minutes now.

"I just... I don't understand, " the young man said breathily as he takes Jango's hand and they start their first dance as a betrothed couple. "How will we be together? During our traditional consummation, one partner must be penetrated."

Jango sighed, some of the Stewjoni's marriage traditions went far past annoying and into down right disturbing. "Well I suppose if you're unwilling, you could penetrate me."

Obi-Wan's eyes widened in surprise, his bright blue-grey eyes sparkling in the party's dim lighting. "You would let me inside you?!"

"Sure," Jango shrugged, he could care less. Saving himself had never been a priority to him, he'd definitely experienced both sides of pleasure and was happy in either role. It came down to the fact that he didn't care who did what, as long as it was consensual and it felt good.

"Isn't it painful?" Obi-Wan asked in concern.

"If it's painful, I'm pretty sure you're doing it wrong, " Jango said dryly, only to cover up his horror. _What had happened in his fiance's past that had made him think that?_

"Its just, that’s not a place something that big should go without _thorough_ preparation." Obi-Wan blushed.

"Are you talking about my ass?!" Jango was aghast, "Kind of a strange act to start off our sex life together. Not really something I would think of for our first time."

"Where else would I put it?" His fiance's face was now bright red.

"My cunt, obviously. " Jango replied, unimpressed.

Obi-Wan tripped a bit and steadied himself, "You're what?!" He hissed. "But you're a man!"

"No, I'm Mandalorian." Jango replied, frown deepening.

"I don't understand, you look like a man."

"I'm Mandalorian." Jango repeated, "I'm not a male."

Obi-Wan just looked confused, "You don't have a gender?"

"There's no gender on Mandalore, we're all the same. Doesn't matter what we look like up here," he gestured to his face. "Were all the same here," he gestured to his lower abdomen and pelvis.

Jango mouth opened, but he paused as Obi-Wan absorbed that information, instead concentrating on their steps and the music.

"I thought you spoke Mando'a," he finally broke the silence between them.

"Only a little," Obi-Wan flushed a bit again, "and I just started learning."

"Didn't you find it odd that my language doesn't have any concept of genders, like yours does?"

"I never really thought about it, before," he murmured.

Jango shook his head, amused. They still had a lot to learn about each other.


	3. all the gifts you have given me (cat!Jango AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cat!AU, ficlet, Obi-Wan & Jango, rated G.
> 
> dunecat!Jango, post!rots, post!order 66, implied reincarnation
> 
> Jango's appearance is based off a [“sand cat”](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sand_cat) from our world. Tatooine Dunecats have been been mentioned in a clone wars book, but there's been no reference to what they look like, so this is my head cannon. :)

#### all the gifts you have given me

* * *

Obi-Wan looked out over the blinding, glittering sand, his heart aching.

The galaxy had taken everything from him. And now here he was, living out the rest of his life on a desolate planet, watching over a child who didn't even know he was there.

Obi-Wan sighed and turned to go back towards his hovel as the suns began to climb higher and higher in the sky.

He was only a few steps away from his door when he realized not all was as he had left it. There was a dead womprat lying prone on his stoop.

Something had killed it and left it on his step. But why?

Tatooine was full of dangerous predators. He looked around himself slowly, trying not to make any sudden movements least he be attacked by whatever had left this carcass. Nothing jumped at him, and there was no sight of a predator that might have left this animal.

Why would a predator just leave it's prey here, still completely whole?

Obi-Wan squinted into the bright sunlight, confused, but carefully moved forward towards the dead animal. No warning in the Force blared and none of his senses alerted him to any movement.

When he reached the womprat, he realized the animal wasn't dead, simply stunned. Something had stunned this animal and then dragged it here, if the marks in the sand were to be believed.

A womprat's bite could be nasty, so he didn't want to wake it, but he didn't want it to perish here under the bright noon sun.

Obi-Wan very gently poked the womprat with the edge of his boot, prepared to jump back if necessary.

When the creature didn't immediately get up and bite him, he nudged it a bit harder. He didn't want to hurt the poor creature, so he didn't nudge it any harder when it still didn't move.

Obi-Wan sighed, stroking his beard and staring at the creature in thought. After a couple moments, he backed away, and tried out the krayt dragon call he'd been working on. It wasn't perfect, but it was loud and it seemed to frighten many of the creatures of this planet.

The creature shook awake and went immediate into it's fight or flight instincts. Seeing there was nothing around it, it took off running, down towards the cliffs.

Obi-Wan watched it go until it was out of his sight, then entered his hovel to protect his fair skin against the harsh rays of the Tatooine suns.

* * *

***

For the next three days he found different things on his doorstep when he returned from his daily morning constitutional.

The first day he found another animal: it was a small, brown and sandy coloured bird this time. Unfortunately, the bird had died in the process of being left. So there was not much else to do but bury the poor thing.

But as he buried it, for the first time, he had a feeling that something was watching him. He looked around in vain trying to find out what it was, but saw nothing. The presence didn't feel malicious, and the Force wasn't warning him of any danger, so Obi-Wan tried to ignore the feeling.

The next day there was a sand adder. Again it had been killed. This time though, he could see where a creature's jaws had pierced through the scaled skin. By the size of the teeth marks, Obi-Wan estimated it couldn't be any taller than his knees. If he had a better grasp on zoology, maybe he could have determined what family the predator belonged to. But alas, he was still stumped.

Something with sharp teeth, for sure though. Something that wasn't afraid to go after an incredibly dangerous and poisonous sand adder.

This time, Obi-Wan took the snake in with him. No sense wasting a good source of protein like that.

The next day, it was another sand adder. This one even bigger than the last. He wondered if whoever was watching him saw that he'd taken in the snake, yesterday.

Because whatever it was watching him was definitely a who, not a what. Although he was sure the presence wasn't a person, the Force seemed to indicated that whatever it was, had intelligence. Well, intelligence and very sharp teeth, if the bite marks on both of the snakes indicated anything.

* * *

For two more days, Obi-Wan returned to his hovel and there was a dead sand adder on his stoop. The snakes varied in coloured patterns and sizes but they were always there and always pretty freshly killed.

Obi-Wan wondered if whatever was leaving them for him, wanted him to do something specific with them. Also, he was getting a little tired of eating fried snake, so maybe he should make a change anyways.

That night he started a fire half a click from his door, so he could move inside quickly if he needed to, but also far enough from his door that he wouldn't worry about any sudden desert wind gusts causing drifting embers to set his home alight.

Once the fire was going, it's coals getting nice and hot, Obi-Wan set the newest snake along the fire to cook. With the help of a long stake that he'd pierced through the snake and held from the fire so that it would cook evenly, he sat back and waited.

For a long time, he sat, listening to the fire crackle, the snake slowly cooking.

Not long after he'd turned the snake over, so the other side would cook as well, he felt the presence that had been watching him, approach.

His back straightened, his hand clenched on his 'saber. If whatever it was had come to kill him, he wouldn't go down with a fight, Luke would still need him in the future.

But to his surprise, a small dunecat appeared at his side, staring up at him.

Obi-Wan startled at it's sudden appearance, his shoulders moving back minutely. But the sandy cat just stared at him, tilting it's head slightly.

“Hello there,” he said quietly, not wanting to spook the small, fluffy creature. “What are you doing here?” He knew this type of small animal was very strong, very quick and had very sharp teeth, despite their diminutive size and fluffy appearance. He really didn't want to startle it into attacking.

The dunecat stared at him for a long moment, before slowly stepping forward. Soon it was standing right beside Obi-Wan's knee. 

It bent it's head down and stoked the side of it's cheek against his leggings and Obi-Wan cautiously moved his hand out and scratched at the top of the dunecat's head.

It meowed softly, pushing into his hand.

There was something about the dunecat. Something familiar about it's Force presence, but what, Obi-Wan couldn't tell.

In the low light of the fire, the dunecat's eyes looked chocolate brown and in their depths, Obi-Wan saw a deep, sad intelligence. This was a creature that had suffered and knew the pain of loss. But that couldn't be true. First, every dunecat he'd seen before had bright blue eyes that helped absorb more light in the dark, so they could see in the darkest of nights. Second, a creature like this had intelligence yes, but not like that. So Obi-Wan shook off the idea and checked how well done the snake was.

When the snake was finished cooking, Obi-Wan used his left hand to bring the crispy meat close, as his right hand had been claimed by the dunecat, who mewed unhappily any time he tried to stop scritching it's face and neck.

He shared some of the meat, which the dunecat gobbled happily from his hands, and ate some himself.

When the fire finally burned down to glowing embers, Obi-Wan lay back on the sand, looking up at the brilliant swirling patterns of the stars in the sky.

The dunecat took this as an invitation to curl up on his chest, and Obi-Wan lazily stroked it's tiny, sandy coloured back.

Obi-Wan felt comfort in its presence and was soon asleep. This was the most peace he'd felt in years.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget you can prompt me for this series [over here in my ask box](https://littledumplingwrites.tumblr.com/ask)! You don't have to have a tumblr to do this. :)


	4. The patience and the peace (Arranged Marriage AU cont.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For cls1606, who asked: _For the Arranged Marriage AU, it seemed like Jango's impression of Obi-Wan was that he was pretty much naive eye-candy, so it might be cool for Obi-Wan to have a chance to show his negotiator chops - especially if it got Mandalore out of a sticky diplomatic situation. :)_  
> 
> 
> Arranged marriage AU, Ficlet, Jango/Obi-Wan, Rated M.
> 
> Mand'alor!Jango, Stewjoni!Obi-Wan, intersex!Jango

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Since the other two had titles from The Bird and the Bee song “Love Letter to Japan”, this one does as well.

#### The patience and the peace

* * *

Jango was surprised to find that marriage didn't change his life that much. There was someone in his bed every night after he got finished his grueling day trying to unite all the disagreeing clans, but other than that, nothing else had changed.

Finished his duties for the day, Jango handed his helmet to his personal body servant, Nal'tar, as he walked into the Mand'alor's family suite. Nal'tar helped him unbuckle and disrobe from his armour before he went through the door to his and his husband's personal bedroom chamber.

The headache he'd had all week had reached some sort of boiling point, and everything just hurt. He was glad for the dimly lit lamps as he walked through the door. It felt less painful to his throbbing head than the blaring lights in the hall.

His husband looked up from where he sat on a divan, reading a book by the dark window.

“You shouldn't sit next to an uncovered window, especially when anyone outside it would be able to see you better than you can see them,” Jango gestured to the lamps.

His husband just smiled at him, marked his page and put his book down. “The Force will warn me.”

“Right, the Force,” Jango snorted, the vibrations of the sound made him wince and rub at his temple.

“Still hurting?” Obi-Wan asked kindly, standing and moving close. His husband reached up and ran his hands around his neck and up his jaw, massaging tight muscles. “You need to stop gritting your teeth during your meetings. You're _giving_ yourself a tension headache.”

“Gritting my teeth is the only thing stopping me from pulling out my blaster and shooting all the old, crusty, stubborn clan leaders.” Jango said, looking up into his husband's eyes.

“You need to have more patience with them. Their whole way of life is changing more and more everyday, through your rule.”

“I'd like to see you do better,” Jango snapped. He didn't know much of what his husband got up to during his days, beyond the few hours of training Jango had asked him to do with Myles every morning. But from what he'd heard of the servants gossiping, he was sure it was mostly meditating and reading. Jango was putting in _real_ work, while his husband got to sit around, looking beautiful.

But he _did_ look beautiful. If Jango wasn't so tired and tense from negotiations, he would spend every night trying to seduce his husband. Only three months into their marriage, and other than their consummation, they'd only had sex one other time. Jango found himself too tired to do much about it. What a waste. Jango finally had someone to share his bed, and that was all they did, share it in sleep.

“Alright.”

“What?” Jango opened his eyes, having been lost in the feel of his husband massaging his jaw.

“I will show you I can do better,” Obi-Wan smiled saucily.

Jango pulled away from his husband, glaring. “Fuck you Kenobi.”

“It's Kenobi-Fett. And we both know you haven't done that yet.” His husband was obviously in a playful mood and it fed Jango's anger.

Jango's eyes narrowed. “You're on,” he said furiously. “Tomorrow, you'll take lead in negotiations.” Jango was a cruel man, and he had to admit to himself he was looking forward to his husband's ego being taken down a peg or two by the cantankerous clan leaders.

Jango moved to the dressing room and changed out of his thick, cloth under-armour in sharp, angry motions. If his closest adviser and friend Myles, hadn't insisted when Jango had married Obi-Wan that it would look bad to the servants and therefore bring down morale in the Keldabe fortress, Jango would have found somewhere else to sleep. He was _that_ mad.

Instead, he changed into soft sleeping clothes, stopping in their private 'fresher to wash his face and brush his teeth before heading to bed, where his husband was already waiting.

Obi-Wan reached over to turn off the lamp at his own bedside as Jango crawled in on the right, the side closest to the door.

Both of them settled into the linens, tossing for a moment. Obi-Wan always slept on his side, usually facing away from Jango.

Jango had often wondered if he just needed the space while he slept, or if it was a subtle sign that they hadn't gotten that close yet. But Jango wasn't wondering that right now, right now he was trying to calm his anger through deep, gulping breaths.

“Jango,” Obi-Wan turned over and whispered to him. “You need to calm down,” his hand reached out and found Jango's shoulder. “I was only teasing earlier. And you really shouldn't let yourself get so angry all the time, it's bad for your heart. No need to make me a widower so young.”

Jango was silent, trying to match his breathing to his husband's, despite his anger. Being told to calm down didn't help his mood.

Obi-Wan sighed and crept closer to him, winding his arms around Jango's tense body, chin resting on Jango's clavicle. The rough scrape of Obi-Wan's cheek against the bare base of Jango's neck was pleasant. Obi-Wan had decided not to shave that week and already had a pretty healthy beard going.

They hadn't been this close in weeks, and it did feel nice, even if he was still a bit angry. Jango found himself subconsciously relaxing into his husband's loose embrace, even as he felt his husband's breathing slow as the man sank into sleep.

* * *

After his daily workout and breaking his fast, Jango always spent his mornings answering urgent correspondence and meeting with his advisers and ministers.

He would then have a quick lunch. And if he had time before his meeting with the clan leaders for negotiations, he would check in on his personal legion that was left under the charge of his Marshal Commander Myles of clan Ordo.

He missed the simplicity of fighting and the war it had taken to reclaim his title as Mand'alor. It had been a simpler existence. But now he had a responsibility to his people that went beyond fighting, and he couldn't fail them.

So after a quick lunch of spicy nerf soup the next day, he headed for the hall he had been using for negotiations. Jango was so deep in thought about his duties, that when he entered the long hall, he was at a loss when he saw his husband standing to the right of his chair at the head of the table.

The twenty-nine most prominent clan leaders, who sat around the table, were busy giving his husband dirty or confused looks and didn't notice his presence.

He didn't let his surprise at the situation stop his actions, so by the time he'd settled in his chair, he had remembered the challenge he'd issued his husband the night before.

“Mand'alor,” Obi-Wan smiled at him, putting his hand on Jango's shoulder and bending down to kiss his forehead.

Jango just blinked.

“I was just telling the clan leaders that you asked me here today to try and help with negotiations.”

Jango nodded hesitantly. What harm could Obi-Wan do, after all, things couldn't get much worse. And even though the clan leaders were fresh to the negotiation table today, the room was full of tension.

“I object to your presence,” the wizened old coot from Clan Rook spouted angrily.

“Do you?” Obi-Wan snapped back. “And do you object to my presence as a foreigner, or do you object to my presence because I lack strength?”

Either objection was an insult to Jango's husband, and as such a direct insult to Jango himself. Such an insult could lead to a punishment as light as being exiled from political matters, or as heavy as the Mand'alor declaring war on his clan and the other clans forced to follow suit.

The old clan leader wisely said nothing.

That had been a bit smart. If Obi-Wan had said anything other than foreign or strength, say like intelligence or patience, the implied insult would not have been grave. As the husband of the Mand'alor, Obi-Wan could never be considered foreign ever again. And insulting someones strength was one of the worst insults you could say to a Mandalorian.

Jango had to keep the resulting smile hidden behind his best serious expression.

“Now I understand that there has been disagreement about succeeding district powers of the old clans back to the Mand'alor, as the Mand'alor slowly resumes leading the sector.”

Jango wondered how Obi-Wan knew so much about the situation. Jango certainly hadn't told him. But it really did simplistically lay out the problem Jango was trying to work through with the clan leaders.

The old, cranky men looked at his husband with the same resentment they'd shown Jango.

“I know that all of you just want what's best for your clans. But can you have to admit, that what would be best for the current and future generations of Mandalore is a peaceful, unified future between all the clans.” Obi-Wan stated confidently.

Jango was surprised to see some nodding heads.

“I know the Mand'alor is happy to hear your complaints, whether or not you still hold that power. He values your strength and wisdom from all the times you've kept your clans safe and working while there was no Mand'alor to guide our people.

“But you all know that this transition is not being made without careful consideration from both the Mand'alor and his Ministers.” Obi-Wan continued calmly, “Now, why don't each of you write down your concerns. We can go through each concern and see if we can't come up with a solution.”

Surprisingly, for a group who hadn't been able to agree on even _one_ thing in the past weeks, they were all nodding their heads and getting out their datapads.

When one of the most cranky clan members opened his mouth to speak, Obi-Wan beat him to it. “Excellent. We will adjourn this meeting until tomorrow, so you may take this request to the rest of your clan as well. We will take any questions you have through the Mand'alor's office until then,” Obi-Wan gestured to the two aides that sat by the door, each with a datapad, ready to take notes or look up statistics for Jango at any moment's notice.

Obi-Wan tilted his head to the leaders in regal dignity, standing tall beside Jango, a kind smile on his face. Jango watched in astonishment as each of the clan leaders got up, bowed to his husband and left.

When the room was empty but for them and a few servants who came in to clear away water glasses and shig mugs, Jango turned to his husband, his mouth open in shock.

“How the fuck did you do that? Usually, I can barely get a word in edgewise.”

Obi-Wan just smiled at him, his beautiful face beaming. “Simple darling, I put myself in their shoes. And if it were me, I would want my concerns to be listened to, I would want to be treated as an individual rather than one of a group, and I would want someone who could show they could take charge calmly, quickly and with verbal strength... That and I didn't let _them_ get a word in edgewise until I had finished what I had to say.”

Jango stood and tilted his head up to kiss his husband senselessly. He'd never been more attracted to him. All that self-assurance, intelligence, strength and beauty was rolled into one package, and he was all Jango's.

There was obviously a lot he had to learn about Obi-Wan, but he was excited he now had the chance to learn it all.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget you're welcome to prompt me through my [Tumblr ask box here](https://littledumplingwrites.tumblr.com/ask)! :)
> 
> Love to hear what you think! <3


	5. I know your best was still your worst (Soulmate AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soulmate AU, Enemies to Friends, Jango/Obi-Wan, Rated T.
> 
> Canon AU. Jango lives after Genosis. Clone wars. Rako Hardeen arc. Implied character death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello fellow Jangobi readers! I have gotten a lot of interest from the Arranged Marriage AU I wrote about in Chapters 2 & 4 of this story. As the interest has expanded (and so have all the lovely prompts I'm getting for it), I have moved it to it's [own story here!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27776686/chapters/67995673) Go check it out! :) This story will remain lots of different stories. Some AUs will come back up here, but I felt that 4 ficlets about the same AU in a row really needed to be put separately. :) I have also just finished a new chapter for that AU, so check it out...
> 
> And while you're here, love to hear what you think about the new soulmate AU below! :)

#### I know your best was still your worst

* * *

When Kenobi came to Kamino, Jango saw something in him.

There was a dark curiosity in his gaze, a strength to his shoulders, a determination to his brow, and a fighting spirit in his soul. He saw it again and again as they fought in the rain, and as Kenobi followed him, without tire, to Genosis.

Some deep spot in his blackened heart warmed at the thought of this man as his. There was just something about him that made Jango's heart yearn. So when he learned that Kenobi had been captured by the Separatists, he knew that if he were to talk with the man now, Kenobi would _have_ to listen to Jango. And Jango was sure that this would be his only chance to convince the other man he belonged with Jango.

“If I let you go,” Jango asked an imprisoned Kenobi, taking off his helmet, “Would you come away with me?”

“What are you talking about?” Kenobi frowned at him from his spinning cage.

“I have been looking for so long, for someone to go back with me to Mandalore. To help lead my people, to fight by my side. Someone who portrayed the willful, fighting Mando spirit as you do.”

The redhead's eyes widened with realization. “You're Jango Fett, the _Mand'alor_. I had heard you were dead.”

“Not dead,” Jango stared at him, “Waiting for the right time to return.”

Kenobi shook his head, “Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't. I wouldn't abandon my Order or my student.”

“What if you could bring your student with you?”

Kenobi shook his head again.

Jango sighed, “It was a long shot. I should have known someone with such willful spirit and deep loyalty wouldn't be so easily swayed.” Jango paused and dug out a card with his private, untraceable comm number on it, the one he often used for bounties. “If you change your mind, if your Order becomes something that doesn't represent the organization you once swore loyalty too, call me. I will come for you.”

The redhead looked at him with shocked confusion as Jango approached and slipped the card into the pocket of Kenobi's leggings, getting a small shock from Kenobi's bindings for his trouble.

He paused at the door and looked back at the _jetii_ one last time before he nodded to him and left.

Jango wouldn't stay, he couldn't bare to see this beautiful, headstrong creature be executed. So after sending a text comm to Dooku, saying he had another job he needed to finish, Jango returned to his ship, rather than stay for the show.

* * *

Over the next three months, Jango got exactly two holocomms from Kenobi.

The first was an effort to try to pry out more information about who had hired him to be the army's progenitor.

The second happened after Obi-Wan's first big engagement with his own attack battalion. The 212th. Under Commander Cody. And wasn't that a shock that _Kote_ was already a commander. Obi-Wan's battalion had sustained huge losses during the battle. The man was fraught with anger and sorrow.

Obi-Wan had been so confident in the first comm, and yet so hollow in the second. Jango recognized the look, having lost so many of his own.

In the first comm, he'd tried to be his absolute most charming, but was certain he'd just come off recalcitrant. In the second, he said not much of anything at all. He'd just listened until Obi-Wan had talked himself out, and when the man had finished, he told Obi-Wan he would be there for him if he ever needed Jango.

After that, it was like a dam had broken, and Obi-Wan called him often for advice, or when he needed someone to listen. Someone outside the _jetii_. Someone who understood the horrors of war and the emotions it wrought.

It was funny how easily their relationship had changed. Enemies first. Now Jango would say Obi-Wan was one of his best friends, and dare he say it, he was probably one of Obi-Wan's best friends.

Some days he felt a bit guilty that the man he had fallen for was also falling into the trap Jango had helped Dooku lay for the _jetii_.

And Dooku was another matter entirely. Jango had worked with him, with the intention that Dooku's plan would kill two birds with one laserbolt. Help get Jango's revenge on the _jetii_ , but also give Jango whereabouts on Dooku so when the time was right, he could kill that two-faced, evil sonofabitch. But then Dooku had been hard to track after Jango had last seen him on Genosis, and now Jango was worried if he could pull it off at all.

So still Jango searched for Dooku, always one step behind the former _jetii_. And as he searched, the Clone Wars waged on.

He and Obi-Wan grew as close as two people could, over a holocomm that is. But they could never seem to get further than that.

And maybe part of that was Jango's involvement in starting this whole mess.

Jango heard how vast and intense the casualties had been with both the _jetii_ and the clones. The boys didn't deserve to die the way they did. But that was out of Jango's hands, and he tried not to feel guilty about their deaths. It wasn't until he heard of Kenobi's death at the hands of the bounty hunter Rako Hardeen, that he truly began to regret his involvement in the whole plot.

There had been something different about Obi-Wan. Something deep. Something Jango had felt to the very bottom of his soul, and now the man was gone.

There had been a click when he'd met Obi-Wan. Jango had felt an instant interest in the redheaded _jetii_ , and he was sad he'd never get the chance to explore that.

And funnily, for all that Kenobi had refused Jango on Genosis, Jango had seen a similar interest in the _jetii_ 's eyes.

And now he would never know what could have happened between them.

* * *


	6. I can't kick your habit (Reluctant allies AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reluctant allies AU, strangers to allies, Jango&Obi-Wan, Rated M.
> 
> Jango Fett is a bounty hunter who always gets the job done, no matter the cost. But he isn't sure he can handle the cost when a beautiful red-headed slave is put in his path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The timeline for this story is supposed to happen just after (within the year) the events from The Phantom Menace. Jango is currently on a bounty for “Tyranus” and he doesn't realize it is about to lead him into becoming the template of the clone army.
> 
> Osk and Onith are letters that look very similar in the Aurebesh Star Wars alphabet. They represent the vowels short O and Eo respectively.

#### I can't kick your habit

* * *

The spinning of the station was subtle enough that he didn't feel it once he'd come into the station proper and the artificial gravity helped slow his spinning brain. But when he'd first docked his ship, the soft spin had made him feel as if he was slowly falling through space with no end in sight.

It was a dizzying feeling.

But now that Jango had gotten on solid-ish ground, everything seemed to be going wrong.

He wasn't even sure how he'd gotten here.

Okay, he knew how he'd gotten to this space station. He'd flown here in Jaster's Legacy, with the hope of another lead on Komari Vosa. His first source of information on her whereabouts (Senator Trell), had been murdered only minutes before Jango had gone to the man's apartment's to confront him. This current bounty was nothing but one headache after another.

But he didn't know why this new source had led him into the deepest, seediest parts of the station, where the desperate sold their bodies, their lives or illegal substances.

He was sure the information on his next source was good, but he couldn't quite figure out who the source was. He'd inquired at a reputable information broker on the space station, and they'd sent him back here with a flimsi with the number Zero-Esk, 436 and another letter at the end that was either Osk, or a poorly written Onith, written on it.

Which meant he'd had to travel down to the fifth sub-level (zero-esk) of the station and then began the meandering journey of looking for room 436Osk or 436Onith.

He found 436Osk first and knocked on the door. Nothing to do but check both rooms.

A svelte young man with red hair opened the door. He was covered in nothing but a long, sheer tunic that just barely reached mid-thigh, that did little to hide the man's slim, but strong looking physic.

Jango couldn't help as his eyes slowly traveled down the young man's body, taking in space-pale skin, rife with bruises and two thick metal cuffs around his ankles.

“Hi,” the other man said in a voice thick from drug-use. “Come inside and we can negotiate a price.”

Jango had a bad feeling about this, but as the young man was obviously not armed and hardly looked to pose a threat, Jango entered the room behind the redhead.

The room was small. There was a big bed and night table, a wardrobe, a toilet and a sink, and that was really it. But it was surprisingly clean. Even the dark sheets and blankets on the bed looked a bit worn but serviceable and fresh.

There was a large, old flimsi poster tapped to the wall near the bed. It was slightly dirty with it's white edges cracked and curling. It seemed to be one of those advertisements to promote tourism. It had a picture of a shining red and brown city with a sun setting in a deep purple sky. The words “Visit Iego: Home of the Angels” was emblazoned across the bottom in black Aurebesh.

There was something very depressing about that bed with the poster tapped onto the wall, but Jango couldn't quite place what it was.

The young man had sat down on the edge of the bed, and was looking up at him.

“Are you one of those who can't take off their helmet?” He asked with only a small slur on the word “off”. His voice was surprisingly posh sounding. It wouldn't be out of place amongst the high society of Coruscant. “I don't mind, if you can't. But I'm not sure how I'd feel if you can't take off any of your metal armor. That might be a bit painful for me, if you want something more involved.”

“What?” Jango asked, confused.

“You're right, it's not my place to ask. Tell me, what are you looking for, and I can tell you my prices.”

“Just information,” Jango said uneasily, making the effort not to shift from one foot to the other.

“Ah,” the young man said, blinking slowly. “That's extra. But if I know it, it's yours for only four hundred Wupiupi.”

“What about Republic credits?”

“Six hundred Republic credits,” the young man returned quickly.

“Six hundred? Never mind that four hundred Wupiupi is highway robbery, Republic credits are worth more than Wupiupi. Two hundred Republic credits.” Jango scowled under his helmet.

“I have no use for Republic credits. I have no easy way to change them, and to do so would be a pain,” the young man said primly, as if he weren't bare legged, sitting in a way that was close to being indecent.

“Two fifty.” Jango said firmly.

“Five hundred for the information, plus four hundred for a blow after.” The young man queried back.

“I don't do spice.” Jango frowned. He definitely wasn't here for drugs.

The young man rolled his eyes. “Not _some_ blow, a blow job. A suck. Oral. Fellatio. Whatever the fuck you want to call it.”

“Oh, uh—” Jango stuttered to a halt. He must be in the wrong room. The flimsi _must_ have said 436Onith. He really wanted to extract himself from this conversation, right now. But if the man _did_ have the information and he left, he would be wasting his time going to the other room. And he really hated wasting time.

And anyway, he didn't know why he was suddenly feeling so shy. He'd had sex, lots of sex in his life, with both women and men. Maybe it was because he'd just never needed to entertain the notion of paying for it before.

“I don't pay for sex, sorry. Just the information if you have it.”

“What a shame,” the young man said dryly. “You must have a magnificent cock, because so far I'm not impressed with your mental capacity. I'm high, not by choice mind you, and I still am not humming and hawing quite as _slowly_ as you are.”

The words ' _not by choice_ ' rang through Jango's head and he finally realized what the cuffs on the man's ankles were. One must be a slave collar, only on his ankle, to give clients access to the man's face and neck, while the other was shinier and black and Jango could only guess what it was for. And he didn't really want to. He'd had enough dealings with Force users in his life, that if he could continue to pretend _that_ wasn't it's purpose, he would continue to not hate this snarky, beautiful man.

“You're a slave.” Jango said shortly. He despised slavery. He had despised slavery even before he'd had to experience it himself.

“Got it in one. I'm surprised though. I mean what were you expecting on a level this far down on a shady space station, deep in the Outer Rim?” The man raised one dark-red eyebrow in dry humor, his voice sarcastic, but surprisingly not as mean in tone as it could have been.

“Give me the information I need, and I'll help you escape your chains.” Jango tried to keep his eagerness to help the man from his voice. There was something that drew him to this sarcastic creature. He'd probably still try to free him, even if the other didn't end up being a good source of information.

The redhead snorted. “You'll forgive me if I don't believe you. You think I haven't heard promises of freedom before? I've been a slave for almost ten years now. I've heard it all and done it all. I'll continue to let the scum of the galaxy use my body until one day my owner grows tired of me and blows me up. Or maybe it will be my heart stopping from being beaten too hard by a sadistic client. Or maybe my owner will give me an overdose of spice which could trigger a brain embolism, at least that way would be quick. My life is what it is, and I have no illusions on who and what I am. And I am not naive about the kind of people in the galaxy who come _here_ to use me. You're just another john looking for pleasure.”

“So you've given up.” Jango said, disappointed. It seemed like there was still fire in the young man's soul, still a passion to fight in his body, even if all it was was to fight against a client trying to rip him off.

He looked like he took good care of his body too. For someone who lived in such a small space, his muscles were well exercised even if he was a bit thin from malnutrition. Keeping fit in a space like this wasn't easy to do. It took mental strength to keep going once you'd been enslaved for a long period of time.

As it was, not many slaves lived after they'd given up. So Jango couldn't believe that this man had given up. “Then what keeps you alive? What keeps you from taking your own life? You seem like a smart man. I'm sure if you really had given up, you could think of half a dozen ways to finally escape this reality.”

The young man looked away, but Jango saw a spark of furry in the man's eyes. This man still had something to live for.

When Jango had first been enslaved, he'd felt destitute: ready for death. But as time had gone on and he'd thought over every single way he could end his own life, he had begun to remember. He'd remembered that although all of his friends and family (his SuperCommandos) had died on Galidraan, many of them had families who hadn't. He had remembered that Mandalore still needed him; that he still needed to make his buir proud.

So he'd fought. He'd fought every day with his own mind, just not to give up, not to give in. He'd bided his time, and knew he would escape at the first chance. And he had.

This young man wanted to escape, he wanted to live, and Jango would help him.

Jango stepped into the redhead's space and grabbed his face with one gauntlet, and took off his bucket with the other.

He forced the other man's head up, so their eyes met for the very first time. “I will help you out of here. And whatever is keeping you alive, I will help you with that too. I swear on the grave of my buir.”

The man's blue-grey eyes sparkled with both interest and emotion. “Alright. What do you want to know?”

Jango smiled at him, the softest smile he knew how, and stepped back to give the man space. Just because the young man seemed to be incredibly well-adjusted, for this horrible situation, didn't mean Jango didn't recognize the tense stiffness of a man feeling like his space was being invaded by someone who could hurt him.

“I need a lead to track down the whereabouts of the Bando Gora.”

“The death stick gang?” The redhead frowned for a moment and then his face lit up in realization. “I think I might be able to help you out.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This popped into my head when I was having trouble sleeping tonight. I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. :)


	7. Who has been fooling who? (Modern, University AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU, University/College AU, truth or dare, first kiss, Rated T for Jango's potty mouth, mentioned someone dying from alcohol poisoning and soft uni first kisses.
> 
> Jango Fett is tired. He just wants to go back to his dorm room and update his thesis proposal and sleep. But the University said that as an RA, he needed to keep a close eye on the new Freshers. They did _not_ want a repeat of last year. So here he is on a Saturday night, watching the Freshers drink, eat pizza and play _Truth or Dare_. The horror... that is, until that cute redheaded Fresher from downstairs approaches Jango.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -title from Eric Clapton's song “Tell the Truth” (if you listen to this song, don't listen to the recorded vers. The live version is way better, which is so rare for musicians). This song gave me such Jango in a black tee/blue jeans and driving a motorcycle vibes. It just feels so right for a 28 year old grad student!Jango. :)
> 
> -In this fic, Jango is pretty trite about someone dying of alcohol poisoning, which does make him seem a bit cold. His words are not meant to blame the victim in any way, instead he is just remarking about a fact of life; something he has to deal with for his job. This kind of thing does happen IRL unfortunately, I remember some kids getting pretty ill during their first years at uni, some weren't even able to come back the next year as a result, so I wanted to highlight that reality. Stay safe folks, drink responsibly if you're gonna. :)

* * *

Jango could not believe he'd been pulled into this party. He was tired, he was hungover, and he was currently doing the last thing he wanted to do on his Saturday night. He was currently babysitting some freshers who were so excited to be away from their parents, that they were getting drunk for the first time, and they would probably all feel each other up before they finally passed out in a huge dogpile. If he'd seen it once, he'd seen it a thousand times.

But what Jango really wanted was to just to go back to his room, eat cold takeout from his mini-fridge and update his thesis proposal to include some of the sources his advising professor had asked him to add.

But no.

 _"Keep an eye on the freshers!"_ The University administrator had said.

 _"Make sure none of them die of alcohol poisoning, like last year,"_ the head Resident Assistant (RA) had told him seriously. Hey, it hadn't been on his watch that Fresher had died. The kid had drunk himself into a coma while at some off-campus party. He hadn't even been on Jango's floor last year, but the administration had wanted them all to be so much more careful this year.

 _"Jango, you're fucking up already,"_ His friend and fellow RA, Depa, had scolded him earlier that day after she'd found one of his freshers throwing up in a bush.

Not that any of it was his fault. They were _adults_ now. They needed to learn to take care of themselves.

He was their floor RA, not their _babysitter_. He wasn't there to hold their hand, just there to resolve general problems that came up.

And fuck, he was so tired. He didn't have time for this shit.

He rubbed his eyes and zoned out as the group of Freshers all chatted excitedly to each other and ate pizza.

Did he mention he was tired? He'd had Boba all of last weekend. He'd wanted to see his son before he became swamped with his thesis, but the poor little guy had just cried about having nightmares both nights, all night long. Neither of them had gotten much sleep in the end. Apparently Boba was going through an afraid-of-the-dark phase, and wanted someone to lie down to him every time he woke up. It had kind of been a _waking_ nightmare for Jango himself... It hurt to see his son cry.

And poor Jaster was just as patient as always when he came back from his weekend away. He'd been so supportive. He always was though. And he'd just listened to all of Jango's complaints, patted him on the back as Jango had moaned tiredly into his hands, made him breakfast, and then Jaster had taken over Boba's care again when Jango had had to leave to get back to campus to welcome the first of the Freshers.

Every time Jango had to leave Boba, he felt like such a deadbeat dad. But he was doing this for Boba too. Once he'd finished his Master's degree, all of his clinicals and certifications, he would be a fully-fledged psychologist and be able to create his own practice, with whatever hours _he_ wanted.

So after he'd finally left Boba for the two-hour ride back into campus, he'd had to meet with incoming Freshers to his floor over the whole day and the next. Not to mention all the prep he was finishing for the first week of courses he would help his advising professor teach this year.

It was a great opportunity to be chosen as an assistant associate professor. He was kind of excited to help teach first-year level psych courses, and it really helped that it paid for some of his tuition. But it just meant he had one more thing to do, that left him feeling exhausted.

But he just had to get through this year. He kept telling himself that over and over, trying to find the joy in finally finishing school.

One more year and then he would finally be free, and could be a real adult again. Then he would only have to worry about raising his son and getting enough patients to pay the bills. That was the dream.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes and leaning his weight more fully onto the wall behind him. If only these dumb kids could hurry up and get slightly drunk and giggle until they all fell asleep, like he hoped they would.

They weren't even that drunk yet and they were already playing truth or dare, for fucks sake. That had to mean they would finish this up early, right? It had to be a sign that they were more than half way finished. Right??

"Obi-Wan, truth or dare!" The spoiled, blonde, rich girl from one building over asked. Depa said she was a fucking nightmare. Apparently she was always complaining about the other girls to Depa, but then trying to help the girls "peacefully negotiate" their problems to their faces. And usually that negotiation involved riling them all up even more until everything she did looked amazingly puritan compared to all the other girls. She was a shit starter, that one. Jango was super glad he wasn't an RA in any of the mixed gender dorms. They were becoming more and more common though. His dorm and Depa's were the last single-gender dorms left, on this campus. All the others were mixed or inclusive. He was just glad this was his last year as an RA, before that changed.

Give him vomit and pranks any day over periods and bitch fights. And he knew that wasn't fair. There were lots of women that weren't like that, but there was always that one who started things. And he had no idea how to handle that. He had never been more relieved in his entire life when Boba had come into the world and the doctor had announced him to be a boy. That didn't mean Jango expected him to grow up into some stereotypical male or anything, but he was glad he would never have to deal with teenager PMS. One sister growing up was enough for him to be glad he'd dodged that bullet.

"Dare, I guess," the cute redheaded fresher from the floor below answered, not that enthused.

"I dare you to kiss m--" the rich girl started but was immediately cut off by Vos.

"Kiss a man!" Vos shouted enthusiastically at the redheaded boy.

Vos was a fucking firecracker, and hilarious to boot, but so very, very noisy. Jango was glad his room wasn't right next to that kid's or he'd never get any sleep. There was always a heavy-metal beat pounding out of Vos's walls and door, and they weren't even quite a full week in! Jango just knew that he would probably end up having to deal with multiple noise complaints about that kid soon.

The redhead frowned, looking around at the other freshers gathered around their common room.

Slim pickings, Jango thought. The redhead himself seemed to be not only the cutest, but the least annoying of those gathered.

But maybe he'd pick that weird kid that seemed to eat everything, from the floor above... wasn't his name something strange like Raft? At least he seemed kind and polite. The redhead could do worse.

He _could_ pick Vos, or that creepy kid on Jango's floor named Grievous, who was always talking obsessively about WWII and genocide.

Or maybe he'd pick Kit. That kid was always clean, but he always seemed to smell like a swimming pool, and was obsessed with wearing board shorts and a sand-colored wife-beater absolutely everywhere. No matter the weather. It had poured one day this week, and Jango had watched that kid walk outside, in the rain, in only his board shorts and tank-top with no hesitation. And Pacific Northwest rain was always so _cold_ too.

So none of the males gathered seemed like good options to Jango. But then again, he wasn't the one having to kiss anyone.

The redhead looked carefully between his options, studying each boy in the circle. Some looked hopeful as his eyes scanned past them, some just looked plain terrified.

Jango kind of wanted to laugh at how uninterested Raft? Rift? seemed to be about the proceedings. Instead the kid was scarfing down another piece of pizza the group had all chipped in for.

Jango yawned and stuck his hands in his pockets, trying to find his phone.

He'd just realized he'd left it in his room, when the redhead stood from the circle and walked straight over to him.

"Can I kiss you?" The young fresher asked sweetly.

"Uh--" Jango stared down at the kid who was probably almost a decade younger than him. That seemed kind of wrong. Jango was an authority figure in the dorm, not some classmate wanting to fumble through his first kiss. "I don't think that's a great idea."

"Why not?" The redhead frowned. He really was a ridiculously cute young man. The cheap florescent lights of the dorm shone off his cleft chin, bringing Jango's eyes down to the redhead's pink lips. "You're not _my_ RA. We're both adults, and I think you're attractive. You can say no of course. I would never kiss you if you weren't okay with it."

And that was a ridiculously mature response. This kid seemed like a 40-year-old in an 18-year-old's body.

"I think I'm too old for you," Jango said slowly, starting to feel a bit unsure about why it was a bad idea.

"I'm twenty. I came to school late. Had a gap year and everything. How old are you?"

"Twenty-eight," Jango replied even slower, trying to rack his brain on why he should still refuse.

"See, just two men in their twenties. It's just a kiss, what could it hurt?" His blue eyes seemed huge and pleading in his softly freckled face. Suddenly Jango wanted to see how far down those freckles went, and had to mentally push away that thought.

"Alright," Jango shrugged. Truly, what could it hurt?

The kid smiled and Jango felt lost, unable to look away from the dimple that curved along his left cheek.

The kid leaned in and kissed Jango softly, almost delicately, as if Jango would break apart if he kissed him harder.

Jango felt a firm hand cup his jaw and he sank into the kiss. It was tender, slow, and incredibly sweet. The kid had _definitely_ done this before.

Finally the redhead pulled away, as his classmates all hooted and hollered behind him.

"Thanks," he smiled, flashing his perfect, white teeth.

"Uh-huh," Jango said back elegantly. He felt like he was now having to make the effort to keep slouching in disinterest, and had to force himself not to touch his now tingling lips.

He definitely hadn't counted on that.

Jango watched the redhead return to his circle of friends in a daze.

Hopefully this dang party would be over soon, so he could go back to his room alone and beat himself up over the fact that he was now harbouring a huge crush on a _Fresher_.

Fuck his life.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love to hear your thoughts! <3
> 
> Feel free to prompt me for Jangobi ficlets [ on my Tumblr here](https://littledumplingwrites.tumblr.com/ask)!


	8. I've never prayed but tonight I'm on my knees (Mandalorian deity AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mandalorian deity AU. Fix-it, sacrifice, deity!Obi-Wan, Mand'alor!Jango. Rated T.
> 
> Jango Fett would do anything for his people, including giving up everything he is. He strikes a bargain with his god and the costs are high.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kad Ha'rangir: the Mandalorian deity of destruction
> 
> ficlet title from "Bitter Sweet Symphony"

* * *

Jango lit the candles around the empty temple with a shaking hand.

Tonight he was here to bring back his family, his people. Tonight he would make the ultimate sacrifice so that they might live. He'd made so many mistakes as their leader. He needed to atone. He needed to do _something_ to make everything alright again.

He set down his helmet near the side of the room, on the uneven flagstone floor, and approached the low stone altar.

Kneeling before the empty altar Jango bent low, his head turned down in supplication and he began to pray.

The words of old, taught to him by Jaster, tumbled from his lips. They had always been said reverently, but tonight they held a hint of desperation. He reached the end and stuttered to the finish. He waited in anticipation, in hope, that his deity would answer his prayer. He had never been the most faithful of worshipers, but he needed this so badly.

There were many stories of Mandalorian people evoking desperate prayers to their gods in the hope of catching their attention. Many of them walked away from the temples bitter, their prayers unanswered. But some were never seen again and many supposed that their prayers had indeed been answered.

The desperate, clawing anger and hope in Jango's chest couldn't decide which was a worse fate. But now there was nothing left for him here in this galaxy.

He waited, ridged and cold, his armor settling around him as he stilled himself, happy to wait until the world burned to the ground.

For many hours nothing happened. His knees grew stiff. And Jango felt the bitter, angry hurt in his mind grow: seething and oozing into his heart.

He decided to utter one more prayer, a promise to give up _everything_ he was if the deity would answer this one request. If that didn't work, Jango would leave hurt and broken, his faith lost.

As the last word dripped from his lips, the air seemed to grow both hotter and colder around him. Jango registered golden-armored feet standing before him, on top of the low stone altar.

His bones felt like they were burning inside his skin, but Jango didn't look up.

He remembered what Jaster had said about Kad Ha'rangir.

* * *

Obi, the Kad Ha'rangir, felt a soft tugging sensation at his core that told him one of his supplicants was begging for his attention. He tilted his head and listened, it had been years since he'd heard a bargain this desperate.

He wrapped the Ka'ra around him and let his presence manifest in front of his devotee.

He stood on the altar in of one of his and his siblings temples of old. The stones of the walls were weathered and dirty, the floor unkempt and unswept. The air smelt of mold and ash. What had happened to his people that they had so forgotten him and his siblings?

His eyes slowly dragged down and focused on the mortal kneeling in front of him.

"Please," the man whispered, his uncovered-head tucked down, almost into the ground.

Obi tilted his head, watching from beneath his helmet. "You come before me with your bare face?" He asked, voice emotionless. He hadn't seen one of his worshipers faces in over a thousand years. "Do you know what you promise with your face _bare_ before me?" He asked, his voice turning steely.

The man slowly turned his face up, his dark cheeks paling in the firelight. "I do," he said, a tremor of fear spreading through his shoulders. "Please, oh mighty Kad Ha'rangir, answer my request. I will give you anything you desire."

Obi carefully reached up and removed his own helmet, baring his glowing white-star face and sunset-red hair to the mortal. "I will take everything you are and give you nothing of your own for the rest of your soul's life. You are still willing to ask this request?"

The man eyes closed quickly when he realized Obi was taking off his helmet. "I do."

"Very well. Open your eyes, mortal, and look into my eyes to make your pledge."

The man took a deep breath, stealing himself, and opened his eyes. The man's eyes widened as he took in Obi's face with an emotion that looked to be both fear and awe. "Your eyes, they're burning."

Obi smiled, the blue flames in his eyes dancing merrily. "So be it. You have looked into my eyes with your own, mortal, your life no longer belongs to those of this world."

The man's shoulders relaxed, he didn't look away, his eyes still locked with Obi's. "Take me," he said, accepting his fate.

"I have been lonely for almost a millennia. I shall welcome your company, mortal," Obi remarked nonchalantly and reached his hand down to clasp the man's shoulder.

The flames in the walls flickered as a wind rushed through the temple, and the room was once again empty except for the helmet sitting on the floor, cold and still.

Outside, the sun rose on Mandalore again. And a few systems away, hundreds of Mandalorians awoke on their last field of battle, lying bare and whole in the mud and ashes of their death field on Galidraan.

Their King was gone.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love to hear your thoughts below.


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